


Cresting

by CyberSearcher



Series: Celestial AU [3]
Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: And apparantly I should do that more offten, Celestial AU, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Shinto AU?, blame discord, coughs agressivly in Cryptid, not comfortable with that tag yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24712579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberSearcher/pseuds/CyberSearcher
Summary: Cole Brookstone - son of the famed performer and devote to The Sun - tends to one of the few shrines dedicated to The Moon.
Relationships: Cole/Zane (Ninjago)
Series: Celestial AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786705
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Cresting

**Author's Note:**

> _  
> **ONCE AGAIN WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY THE 3AM GODS**  
>  _
> 
> Okay, sO. Small context because I do indeed want to write more for this in the future to more cleanly flush out this world.
> 
> This takes place in a rural Japan-inspired setting. Where Shinto exist and wander Earth like it's commonplace. The Sun is the most 'personable' and is frequently seen among people and villages, especially during celebrations dedicated to it. 
> 
> The Moon has much fewer followers in comparison and a less established doctrine and practices. 
> 
> To clarify, 'Shinto' doesn't clearly translate to 'god' or even 'spirit'. As an example, Mt Fuji is a Shinto but also regular people can be called 'Shinto'.
> 
> I know just the minimum of the massive mythos and I'll be reading up what I can if I plan to do This Right, so let it be clear. I am only taking inspiration from this and attempting to be as respectful as possible. 
> 
> This is really more of it's original universe that happens to draw from Japanese mythos. We just though Dommies art looked sick as fuck, it was 3 AM and we Were Blessed.

Cole Brookstone tends to a small shrine to The Moon, on top of a mountain that stands above the clouds. It’s small, few ever visit and the lone Priest rarely leaves.

Many who come seek guidance or hope. Cole offers their prayers and gives them what solace he can. He himself, while devoted to The Moon, often questions whether he’s doing his enough. 

One night, under the light of the full face of The Moon, Cole sits at the edge of the mountain. He thinks to everything he’s said and done, past and present. 

He remembers his father, boisterous and urging his son to join him in the great dances dedicated to The Sun. The sticky sense of wrong that clings to those old memories never leaves. 

He leans his face over the edge. The clouds obscure the base entirely and the wind tickles his bangs. 

Something compelled him to rest by the shrine. He’s too tired to return to the small cave and ragged futon. 

It’s a humble structure, built in front of a small lake with a lone willow. The light of The Moon reflects perfectly off it’s rippled surface. 

Cole’s sleep is never noteworthy. Until tonight.

The priest wakes up, but it is still night. The surface of the lake is still rippling with light, but there is something different. 

In the reflection of The Moon, framed between the pillars of the shrine he guards, there is a man.

He is paler than any ivory statue, with hair that rivals the softest of silk threads. His clothes trail behind like a feathered tail, flowing behind him like water. 

His eyes, they’re no other word to describe them. They’re breathtaking. 

Cole is speechless. The man steps down from the shrine, down from his halo of moonlight and crowning stars. Cole rises to meet him, but too stunned to move forward. 

The beautiful man reaches for him. His hands are smooth, perfect and soft. One cradles his face, the other presses against his heart. 

“You’ve done so much good.” He says. “More than you could ever know. Thank you Cole.” 

He smiles at him. Cole still cannot find words. They laugh at him quietly, a sound like songbirds morning call. 

“Would you like me to show you?” 

Cole struggles to find the strength just to nod. 

He closes his eyes. His lips taste of mist and the purest affection.

Cole wakes when he feels the leaves of the willow brush his cheeks. 

He slowly blinks. The soft cloud of bliss dissolving in the sunlight. The memories are sweet, tattoos of light etched into his mind and heart. 

With a soft smile, he goes about the rest of his day. He cleans and prunes the altars and shrines, taking care to leave everything pristine. 

As he sweeps the floor, he sees something ingrained in the old wood. A perfect crescent, formed out of silver. Brushing his fingers against it sends a pulse of cold up his arm. 

Unconsciously, he touches his lips. 

When he leaves to buy more incense and food, Cole realizes that some people stare. It isn’t until he sees his reflection in a mirror that he understands.

His eyes were a deep amber. Until now. 

Now, they held little rings of pale blue and flecks of silver-grey. Curling across his cheek was a small pattern of freckles that he knew was the constellation that hung above the mountain.


End file.
